[RP] We're not questioning God, just those he chose to carry on His cross.

[sarkraticmethod]

[[OOC: Backdated to right after the Silent Hall thread, circa two months ago.]]

Sark wouldn't admit it to anyone, but April's journal entry announcing the return of one Jack Harkness or John Thane or whoever the hell he was today set him so far on edge that it took every iota of control that he had within him to keep from turning into something and

Comments

[sarkraticmethod]

He nods at her politely in response to her thanks, figuring the fewer words that come out of his mouth, the better off everything will be. Somehow, he's pretty sure nothing good ever came out of him talking for lengthy periods of time about things he knows, much less things he doesn't

[sarkraticmethod]

A smile tugs at the corner of his lips, but then vanishes just as quickly. "What a coincidence. Neither have I."

He scoots to the edge of the bed and kicks off his shoes before throwing his jacket off, but everything else remains in place. He gives Suzie a look over his shoulder. "If you'd prefer that my company slept on the floor, that can be arranged."

It's half joking and half serious. It never hurts to make sure she's aware of her choices and he'd rather not presume to curl up on her bed, unless he's absolutely certain that she wants him there. Sometimes there's a time for being subtle and sometimes it's better if things are spelled out clearly with boundaries set.

[superiorspectre]

"I don't mind sharing the bed," Suzie says, "as long as you're aware that I am a paranoid bitch." Her lips curve in something that might be a smile were it slightly less cynical. "If I didn't trust you to some extent, you wouldn't be here, but if I'm ever under the impression you're trying anything you shouldn't... You get one warning. Then we see which of us is faster when I try to break your wrist." Or knee him where it hurts. She'll take whatever opportunity presents itself.

Her tone of voice suggests she doesn't think she'll need to follow through, but her eyes are flat enough that it's obvious she means it.

"Try not to take that personally, but I needed to make sure we were clear on that." She shrugs, and it's more than half apology. "If that's a problem, I'm more than happy to give you all the floor-space you like."

She does want him on the bed, but she's been too wary of men for too long to let him assume anything.

[sarkraticmethod]

Sark just stares back at her with whatever passes for an honest expression with someone like him. Despite all the choir boy good looks, he doesn't really have a face that inspires much trust. He doesn't have much about him, in general, that inspires much trust. He understands this and doesn't get offended by the concept.

He waits until she's completely finished, and then shrugs. "It's not a problem at all. Justifiable paranoia aside, I wouldn't dream of taking advantage of your hospitality, but you're perfectly in your right to assume that I might." He smirks a bit and it's equally cynical, but there's clear evidence of no harm, no foul in the expression, despite that. "And, as far as taking it personally, Suzie, I've heard far worse from people less considerate of my feelings."

He throws his legs onto the bed and promptly curls up, his physical indication that the conversation is over, he's sleeping on the bed, and she can come over and curl up next to him, if she'd like to now.

[superiorspectre]

She smiles at that, just a little. "Then just give me a moment to slip into something a little less potentially awkward." The last thing either of them needs is for her robe to come undone in the middle of the night and the awkward misunderstandings that would result.

The robe might be comfortable, and she was in no condition to go digging for something more concealing at the time, but now...

She rummages through her things and pulls out a t-shirt. It's several sizes too large for her, and secondhand, but that only serves to make it both comfortable and reasonably modest as sleepwear. And since Sark doesn't appear to be looking, she has no problem with slipping out of the robe and pulling the t-shirt over her head.

She pads barefoot to the light switch, and turns to look at him. "You know, it's generally more comfortable, when it comes to sleeping, if you're underneath the covers. Unless you're just going to ludicrous lengths to protect my nonexistent honor..." She makes a valiant attempt at a smirk. "Just a thought

[sarkraticmethod]

Sark snickers, his eyes half-closed, and moves enough to actually get underneath the covers before she climbs into bed, figuring her snaking in the face of adversity and the events of this night don't require return snark, and, honestly, he can't think of anything better to say right now. He hesitates for a moment as soon as they're both in place, and then dares to scoot close enough so that they're touching and nothing more than that. Reassuring contact- he's missed that so much. Hell, of the women he's been involved with here, he can't even remember this happening with anyone else, despite the sex. (Snuggling with Calisto? Perish the thought. And with Indigo, he'd been far too withdrawn to make the attempt.)

It's nice, really, and he can only hope that it helps Suzie through whatever it is she's going through right now. Where words fail.. Simple physical contact helps.

[superiorspectre]

Suzie freezes for a moment, then relaxes, as she reminds herself of the fact that this is Sark and he is... About as safe as is possible for him to get.

After a moment, she makes a little 'hmph' noise and turns, wrapping an arm around his waist and pressing a bit closer. It's partly a desire for contact, for comfort, and partly the fact that, with more contact comes more chance to read his movements, his breath, his heartbeat... It makes him slightly more predictable.

In a lot of ways, cuddling close is less nerve-wracking than feeling him so close but just barely touching him.

And perhaps the whiskey isn't quite done with her yet, because she finds herself murmuring, "Don't misunderstand. You're not by any means unattractive. I just can't think of a worse possible time to even theoretically consider anything more than..." she yawns, "...this. And it's nice, just having a friend here

[sarkraticmethod]

Sark doesn't tense when she wraps her arms around his waist, just leans a little closer into it, wrapping an arm around her in kind. His hands keep finding their way to her hair for some reason.

He tries not to laugh at her murmuring, but there's a small hitch in his breath that suggests a mostly suppressed chuckle. "Go to sleep, Suzie," he says, very gently. He'd rather not be the one who let her ramble while sleep-deprieved and slightly drunk- he'd like this situation to not be awkward in the morning, thank you.

That said, he closes his eyes, wiggles just a bit to get into a more comfortable position, and his breathing relaxes into that casual state of almost-sleep. Not quite sleep, yet, but getting there. If anything, the whiskey certainly made him feel like sleeping for the first time in ages. Suzie being here helps as well.